


Song of the Siren

by Fire_Bear



Series: FrUK Spring Festival 2k16 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: First Meetings, FrUK Spring Festival 2k16, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Sirens, Tragedy, day1, merman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:09:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis wants to find a safe space for his people but, upon coming across a lonely singer on an island, the merman finds something different. But can it last?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song of the Siren

**Author's Note:**

> This… This was meant to be a nice, sweet, first meetings story. It kind of went a bit awry when I did a cursory search on sirens to double check what they looked like and… well…

When he was little, Francis's mother used to sing him lullabies. For the most part, merpeople didn't sing as well as humans had been led to believe but his mother's singing was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It broke his heart when he was no longer able to hear it, his mother lost to the death trap of nets and hooks from above. As a little boy, he had sobbed for days but, as more and more of his friends and family disappeared to the menace of the humans, Francis became numb to the pain, hiding it behind a charming demeanour.

He hardly ever went to the surface, too cautious to even look upwards. But, as humans began to descend into the depths, taking their battles underwater, Francis began to look for coastlines that would be safe for his people. Taking it upon himself to save everyone, he travelled far and wide and met many interesting sea creatures. However, their numbers still dwindled and, eventually, he was left to find a safe haven alone. No-one would travel with him, preferring to hide at the bottom of their oceans. Those that travelled to his safe spots were often caught or killed before they could reach them.

Beginning to get desperate, Francis took to the surface more often, searching for something, anything, though he wasn't sure exactly what it could be. It was on one such trip to the surface that he heard it, the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Yet it was also sad and, after listening for some time, he touched a hand to his cheek, shocked that he was crying. Many years had passed since he had last cried and he knew he couldn't swim away without finding who it was. So he turned towards the sound and followed it. Doing so found him a few whale-lengths away from where he had surfaced, at a small, island in the middle of nowhere. It was made up mostly of rocks but there was a grassy part in the middle filled with flowers and a small wooded area to the south.

Sitting upon one of the rocks was a young man. He was naked, though he seemed unaffected by the sea breeze which ruffled his blond hair. His knees were bent and he hugged them to his chest as he sang, staring into the water at a spot a few tail-lengths from where Francis was floating. On his arms, instead of scales, he had feathers, long and a light brown colour. They stuck out from his arms and continued down to his hips to form wings. Francis had never seen anything like it.

Curious, he swam closer, intent on sliding up onto a rock to sit close by. As soon as he moved, though, the man's head snapped up and he stopped singing, staring with an open mouth at Francis. The merman gazed back, astonished at the unearthly green eyes which were far brighter than any set of scales or jewels he had ever seen in the ocean. They stayed there for some time, both mostly immobile, though the waves pushed Francis closer and closer to the rocks.

“Who...” said the strange man. “Who are you?” he asked.

His voice was rough and accented strangely. Francis barely managed to hold back a wince: it had broken the spell that had been upon Francis since he had first heard the man's voice. Now he noticed how unkempt the man's hair was and those huge, bushy eyebrows. His nose was a little crooked as if he had been hit in the face at some point. There was also a scar across his cheek, red and shiny and newly healed. He did not look beautiful at all... but that singing voice made Francis want to stick around and ask him to sing only for him.

“My name is Francis,” the merman told him. “May I?” He gestured to the rock next to the man.

Nodding, the man held out his hand to help Francis up. Francis gratefully accepted and was surprised to find that the man's arms were surprisingly strong for how thin they were. Perhaps the addition of the wings helped somewhat. As Francis positioned his tail in the best way to catch the sea spray, the man spoke.

“My name's Arthur.”

“Arthur, hm? Such a nice name.”

“Mm.”

They fell into silence, Arthur staring at the rock, Francis watching him. Eventually, he had to break the silence. “I am sorry to ask this,” he said, “but what exactly are you?”

Glancing up, Arthur shot him a look which said he thought Francis was an idiot. “Don't you know?” he demanded. “I've never met a merperson who _didn't_.”

Francis bristled. “I may have been a little busy recently. I don't keep up with every new development on the surface – only the ones which matter.”

At that, Arthur laughed at him. Francis would have been offended had the sound not been almost as beautiful as his singing. “I am not a 'new development',” Arthur told him. “My kind has been around since the merpeople have. Humans mix us up a lot – they think we're half-fish, too.”

Looking him over, Francis grimaced. “How in the Ocean could humans get us mixed up? We look nothing alike.”

With a shrug, Arthur leaned back slightly, letting his legs stretch out in front of him. It revealed more of him, including that part of the human body that humans always made sure was covered. Francis eyed it with interest as Arthur spoke, unaware of his gaze. “I think some humans combined stories of us until it got lost in the sands of time.”

“'Sands of time'?” Francis asked, looking up at Arthur.

The siren looked over at him. “Yes... I'm not sure how to translate that into a term you'd understand.” He paused, letting his head fall back so he could gaze at the sky. “I suppose I could show you.” With a flap of his wings and a tensing of his legs, Arthur stood and almost floated across the rocks to the strip of dry sand beyond, which separated the rocks from the grass. Grabbing a handful, Arthur returned to Francis's side, holding his hand out. “Humans say that time flows like this,” Arthur told the merman, letting the sand trickle away from him, blowing across the rocks. “So, like the sand, things which happen at certain moments are lost.”

“I see. So humans forgot which story was associated with which species?”

“Exactly,” Arthur agreed, crouching down beside Francis. “They learn the hard way how wrong they are.”

“Indeed. If I see a human...”

“You avoid them,” Arthur finished for him. Francis was surprised – he had been intending to make an idle threat, trying to sound impressive. It must have shown on his face for Arthur shrugged a shoulder. “My mother taught me that humans destroy as much as we do.”

“'You do'?” Francis echoed, confused.

Arthur smiled at him, a sad, heart-wrenching thing. “We do. All the time. Sirens bring death even as they try to bring love.” He sounded as if he was quoting something, perhaps something his mother had said.

Francis took stock of his surroundings and shook his head. “You don't seem to be destroying anything here,” he said. “In fact, it looks perfect. Idyllic, maybe. Even though it's not as beautiful as Below.”

“Many sailors have died on these rocks,” Arthur explained. “Though... I haven't seen as many as I did when I was a child and my mother was here. She died when a sailor managed to resist her call and fled the island.”

“It may just have been a coincidence.”

“She threw herself into the ocean. We can't survive that.” Arthur fell silent for a while, finally sitting down properly, cross-legged. Francis eyed the interesting appendage, distracted from the serious topic of conversation, but was roused from his distraction by Arthur speaking. “Why are you here?”

“I...” Francis hesitated, not quite willing to say he had been attracted by his singing. “I want to find a safe place for my people. My friends and family keep being caught in nets and killed by the humans. Or taken away for Neptune knows what.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Mm.” Arthur paused and eyed Francis. “Why did you come _here_ , though? There are no caves on this island and the rocks are dangerous when the sea is rough.”

“Well, I didn't know that,” Francis answered, a little sniffy at the tone of obviousness. “But thank you for the information.”

“Are you going to leave?” Arthur asked, quickly, derailing Francis's thoughts once more.

Stilling, Francis considered his options. By all accounts, he should move on, find what he was looking for. On the other hand, hardly anyone sang Below any more. Perhaps he could continue to listen to Arthur for a little while longer. “Will you sing for me if I do?”

“If... If that is what you wish,” Arthur said, sounding hesitant.

“Please.”

So Arthur sang and, from the moment he opened his mouth, Francis thought him the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Not even the shells or the shimmering fish Below came close. Arthur's song was sad and lonely and Francis increasingly felt the need to be close to him. Almost without being conscious of it, Francis found himself crawling across the rocks, dragging his tail and not caring for once that he may scratch himself and mar his gorgeous scales. It was mere moments before he was right next to the siren, his arms propping him up as he openly stared at Arthur.

Something caught Arthur's attention and he turned to look, eyes widening as he took in how close Francis was. His words faltered and, with them, Francis wobbled. But Arthur continued to sing, changing the song as he smiled at Francis, his words becoming happy and sweet. Francis sighed and pushed forward more until he was practically on top of the siren. That was when Arthur stopped, trailing off into a hum.

“You're... so beautiful,” Arthur murmured after a few moments of silence.

Dazed and pleased, Francis merely murmured, “You are, too.”

Arthur shook his head and laughed prettily. “I highly doubt I'm as beautiful as you.”

“Your voice is,” Francis insisted. “Even your laugh...”

They fell silent, staring at each other. Then Francis surged forwards, grabbed Arthur's face with both hands and pulled him towards him in a kiss. It started off with just an urgent press of lips against lips. Then Arthur tilted his head just so and tugged Francis closer by his waist and it seemed a million times better. Francis ran his tongue against Arthur's mouth and Arthur let him in, actively sucking on it. Lips, teeth, tongue; all were used in a far more passionate kiss than Francis had ever given or received.

Of course, they had to part for breath. Arthur stared at him, looking dazed and flushed deeply. Francis was overjoyed at the sight and even more so when he heard Arthur whisper, “Oh”, obviously in awe.

* * *

Afterwards, Francis returned to the island as frequently as he could. They had parted shortly after the kiss and Francis had sworn on Neptune and Salacia that he would return in a week. He could barely concentrate on his search while he thought of Arthur, alone on the island and singing his loneliness away. In the end, he returned after a few days and barely went far the next time he left.

Every time he arrived to see Arthur, the siren looked delighted at having company. He told Francis about some of the humans he had seen, dead and dying on the island. Every boat he had seen was committed to memory and he described them to Francis, noting the changes over the years. In return, Francis told him about the ocean below, the fish and the octopuses, the shells and the dolphins. Arthur delighted in this and formed stories around the things Francis told him about: Francis gave Arthur ideas as to where the boats were travelling to and what they were carrying as Arthur's fear of the sea made him cautious of long distance flights.

When they weren't talking, they were content to sit in silence. Most of the time, they sat hand in hand on the rocks. Sometimes, Arthur would guide Francis to the rock pool and the merman would sit there, watching the crabs clambering over him while Arthur used it as a way to bathe, a curious task Francis had never seen done before. He paid special attention to his feathers and, on one such occasion, Francis curled his tail around him and looked at each one, staring at the way they all seemed a little different from the others, marvelling at their softness. Arthur liked the attention and was soon asleep in Francis's arms. At other times, Arthur would carry Francis to the meadow, setting him down next to a basket he had weaved so tightly he could fill it with water. Francis used it to rehydrate while Arthur discussed the flowers or lay himself on his stomach and watched the merman.

Displaying their prowess at swimming or flying also entertained them. Francis would sometimes miss being in the ocean and would dive in, swimming a few tail-lengths away before resurfacing to wave at Arthur. Then he would do a dance just for Arthur who watched him with such happiness that Francis felt his heart swell. In answer to it, Arthur would use his wings to fly, dipping and soaring, gliding and flapping before landing right next to Francis and sweeping him up into a kiss. Francis enjoyed pulling him down to the water for his own kisses, reassuring the nervous siren whenever he became antsy about being so close to the sea. The merman often saddened at the reminder that Arthur had a fear of the ocean: he wished he could take Arthur to see some of the wonderful sights he had seen.

But both of them enjoyed kissing and touching each other, no matter the proximity of the water. Arthur loved to stroke his fingers lightly along Francis's scales, drawing nonsense patterns and watching them sparkle. Meanwhile, Francis enjoyed staring deeply into Arthur's glimmering eyes as he pressed his lips against the siren's. They spent long hours touching each other, exploring, kissing various parts of their bodies. There were several times when Francis even fondled Arthur's extra bit (which the siren was far too embarrassed to discuss in depth, especially when Francis was touching it). Francis loved watching Arthur as he did that, watching his eyes screw shut, his face colour, his breathing quicken until he reached the height of ecstasy and cried out, Francis's name on his lips.

It was a beautiful time and it later took Francis four days to realise that he hadn't left the island for quite some time. His routine of leaving to sleep in the sea had been supplanted by the need to stay near Arthur, sleeping in the rock pool, sometimes sleeping next to the rock the siren slept on, holding his hand. That was the moment he realised that his intense physical attraction had softened and deepened into love. He laughed at that and told Arthur right away; he had also laughed, wrapped him in a hug and said, “Me too.”

Of course, he wasn't spending all his time near the island. Sometimes, when the mood caught him, he would delight in waking to the bird song that Arthur provided and immediately diving down to the depths in order to retrieve a trinket and present it to Arthur as a gift. The first time he had done that, Arthur had been both pleased and mortified, without a gift to give in return. Though Francis had tried to insist that he felt the kisses were enough, Arthur had used the next time Francis had left on such an excursion to fashion a flower crown from the cranesbill that grew in the meadow. Francis had been so touched he had tried to keep it but he had had to give it up when the flowers withered and became brown. Arthur made him a new one from the yellow pimpernel that grew in the wood when he noticed how upset Francis was over the loss.

Francis was happier than he had ever been, as was Arthur, so it seemed abrupt when it all came to an end.

The merman was dozing in the sun one morning, not quite awake but sure to open his eyes soon, when he realised the sun was being blocked. Since it was such an unusual occurrence, he frowned, confused. Arthur always made sure to sit beside him to wake him as Francis had once told him of seeing the fishing boats looming above him and his fear of them was obvious to the siren. So, concerned, Francis opened his eyes – and gasped.

A small human was standing over him with a net, another one not far off. Panic overtook him and Francis pushed himself as far back as he could in his rock pool, using his tail in order to get further away. It hit against the man's legs and he fell backwards with a cry. His companion caught him before he could hit his head on the rock and pulled him back to his feet, taking hold of the net as well.

“Don't be scared,” the man told Francis, a little breathlessly. “This is for your own good.”

“What are you talking about?” Francis snarled. He cast about, searching for Arthur. The siren was nowhere to be seen, most likely off hunting for their breakfast. However, he couldn't rule out the fact that the men had taken him already. “Where's Arthur? What have you done with him?!”

“Arthur?” asked the taller man. “There's only one of you here...”

Cursing himself for giving vital information away, Francis flipped himself over and grabbed onto the rocks, beginning to clamber over them. Sea sprayed onto him before he'd even crested the top of the dip; the waves were rougher than normal. He just spied a boat several tail-lengths away from the island, rocking dangerously on the waves, before he was grabbed from behind and tugged backwards.

“Please,” said the first man. “We're only trying to help you. We don't want any more merpeople to-”

Before he could finish there was an anguished screech from above. Francis looked up so fast he thought he may have hurt his neck. He stared in shock at the sight of an angry Arthur spiralling above them, surveying the scene. The men gasped, obviously out of their depth. Not letting the men regain their senses, Arthur dived, aiming straight for them.

There were two, sudden, loud bangs from beside Francis and Arthur faltered, his wings spraying feathers everywhere as he spun out of control. Francis cried out, may have shouted his name, he wasn't sure. Without thinking, he braced himself against the dangerous rocks and pushed himself into the air as far as he could go. Turning in mid-air, he tried to catch Arthur, to soften his landing. The siren slammed into him and he was smacked into the rocks, his head hitting off the surface of them, hard.

Francis barely had time to register the pain in his head and the blood smearing across his chest from one of Arthur's wounds before the sea claimed them for its own. The last thing he heard was the soft, rasping singing of Arthur as the siren desperately clung to him.

**Author's Note:**

> The two humans I'm thinking are Alfred and Kiku but they can just be random OCs, if you'd like. They're trying to protect the merpeople who are endangered species. So, they, uh, pretty much kidnap them and put them in zoos. Or something. All humans are aware of the merpeople but the sirens are believed to not exist/to be merpeople. So Arthur startled 'Alfred' who panicked and shot him. 
> 
> It became like this because I [read](http://www.crystalinks.com/sirens.html) that the sirens threw themselves into the sea after Odysseus passed them by and 'resisted' their magic. So I figured that sirens may want love but... the person they love would have to remain on the island. Highly unhealthy for Francis...
> 
> Oh, and, while Francis is charmed by Arthur's singing, the same can be said for Francis's appearance for Arthur. So, all in all, they're both kinda under spells when they kiss. Though the love thing happens all on their own. :)


End file.
